


But the Boy Was Cute

by speckledsolanaceae



Series: Intuition, Understanding, Longing [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, No Angst Only Fluff, ace!mark, time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 05:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20925194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speckledsolanaceae/pseuds/speckledsolanaceae
Summary: Yukhei had his first kiss when he was eight, and it was terrible. Well, the boy was cute, but the kiss was terrible.(T for mild language)





	But the Boy Was Cute

**Author's Note:**

  * For [staycoolstaykind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/staycoolstaykind/gifts).

Yukhei had his first kiss when he was eight, and it was terrible. Well, the boy was cute, but the kiss was terrible.

The house he was in was unfamiliar, and he didn’t like that, really. There were lots of throw pillows and the air smelled like ghee and incense—kind of heavy and thick rather than citrus-y and light like his mum kept his house. He’d get used to it over the hour, especially when Radha’s dad brought out the samosas. Those were warm and smelled great and he could forgive the house for containing a cat that hissed at him in the first five seconds alone.

He didn’t like cats. Not that one anyway. There was a cat that had kittens in his neighbor’s bushes and that one let him pet her and kiss her babies, and he loved that one.

“Radha, your cat’s mean,” he told her.

“It’s my birthday. Pay attention to me,” she said, as if that addressed what he’d just said, and turned to retreat into her home. Yukhei stood in her doorway and wanted to retreat to his _own_ home, but his shoes were already off, so he followed her anyway. 

Radha had invited her whole homeroom class and then some to her party, and Yukhei’s pa said he was “obligated to engage in social events” which was parent-language for “take the medicine, Xuxi.”

He was more nervous than he should have been at any other birthday party because one time Radha had taken one of his wontons without asking during lunch and called it gross.

In other words, he did _not_ like Radha _or_ her cat.

“There’ll be other kids there,” his mum had said gently as she had tidied his hair and kissed his forehead. “You said you liked that one classmate—”

“Yuqi,” Yukhei had said. “She’s not going.”

“Oh, well…”

In fact, no one else was there, so Yukhei sat on one of Radha’s fancy couches and stared at the cut cucumbers and other vegetables on the coffee table. He prayed for someone else to come soon, Yukhei himself earlier than everyone else because his parents “followed certain conventions,” which Yukhei didn’t know what was parent-language for.

“What did you get me?” Radha asked, and sat down way too close to him. He scooted away.

“It’s a secret.” He got her a friendship bracelet-making kit, which was mortifying because he did _not_ want to be friends with someone who insulted his mum’s wontons.

From the kitchen, Radha’s dad emerged like a giant and Yukhei almost curled up into the corner of the couch away from the hand the man extended. “Hi there!” he said like some children’s show character.

When the doorbell rang, Yukhei could have cried from relief because both Radha and her dad were distracted. His relief ebbed a little when he realized the boy showing up was a stranger, but it was better than being alone.

“This is my neighbor,” said Radha. “He’s really bad at soccer.”

“Oh,” said Yukhei as the boy blushed so deeply Yukhei almost told her to back off from sheer instinct. The boy had a tiny mole on his cheek. “I’m bad at Mario Kart.”

“How can you be bad at Mario Kart,” Radha said in maybe the snootiest way possible, and her dad retreated back to the kitchen as if his daughter wasn’t bullying her guests.

“I like Toad,” the boy said, and Yukhei beamed.

Before he could follow that rabbit, Radha butted in. “His name is Mark!”

“Hi, I’m Mark,” said Mark, and Yukhei leaned off the couch to reach his hand because he, too, liked Toad.

“I’m Yukhei.”

The doorbell rang again before Radha could protest how her two guests decided to ignore her.

Despite Radha’s most intense struggles to get Yukhei’s attention on her for the rest of the evening, he much preferred to spend his time with Mark.

In retrospect, the last part of the party was a disaster of morality. Given three more days, Radha would aggressively confess to Yukhei and he would flat-out deny her. But for the birthday itself, Radha only seemed to know what parties looked like from the movies she watched. Her dad was less than present, retreating to his office to work after 6 o'clock, and so Radha, frantic to be successful, did what she thought she knew.

“Spin the bottle!” Radha yelled, holding up a little glass bottle that used to hold a coconut milk drink. About half the class had shown up and she forced them all in a wide circle. Somehow, despite holding onto Mark the entire party, he found himself separated by about three other kids—two of which were his classmates. Radha plopped herself across from him, elbows on her knees and cheeks in her hands.

Yukhei avoided eye-contact.

“Anyone who doesn’t do it has to go skinny-dipping!” Radha added, much much louder than she needed to be. Yukhei glanced out her glass back doors and to the lit pool. He’d never been skinny-dipping. Barely knew what it meant. He was immediately apprehensive. He didn't think there was anything to be ashamed of with his body, so the idea didn’t repulse him totally, but he was already embarrassed at the mere idea of his classmates pressing their faces to the windows. And he couldn't imagine how humiliating it would be for anyone else. He didn't really want to look at anyone's unclothed body. It felt wrong.

Yukhei shook his head to avoid that thought and watched as the bottle spun, wondering if it would land on him.

It landed somewhere between Mark and the person to his left.

“Rock paper scissors!” Radha almost screamed, and Yukhei recalled the many times his pa had told him he was too loud. Is this what he meant? “Mark won!” she shrieked, and Yukhei had to purse his lips to not laugh—his mum told him it wasn't okay to laugh unless other people were laughing. No one was laughing, and no one else was reacting like she was. The situation was starting to feel strange. Someone on the right end of the circle pouted in boredom.

Radha spun the bottle again, and Yukhei saw its silver cap slow to point its head right at his shin.

The whole circle hesitated, Radha staring at the bottle like it was a plate of sludge.

She shook herself. “Well, you can’t kiss a boy! I’ll kiss you!”

“No!” Yukhei blurted. “I’ll do it!” He honestly wasn’t sure if he really could kiss boys—he’d never seen it done—but he didn’t want to kiss the girl who’d insulted his mom’s wontons, and he already liked Mark miles better than her. He scrambled to his feet before Radha could lunge across the way and nab him.

When he dropped to his knees next to Mark, shoulder jostling the partner to his right, he leaned forward before he could think.

And he really meant it when his first kiss was terrible. He hit the corner of Mark’s mouth with his lips before Mark could even properly face him, nose bumping into the boy’s cheekbone and glasses, and Radha was yelling so loud, and Mark was covering his mouth with both hands, eyes wide.

Maybe he should have never counted that as his first kiss—it was more like a collision—but even as terrible as it was, the boy was still cute.

Despite Yuqi being the one who worked at an art day care, Yukhei was the one who dragged her into signing up for a pottery elective.

“I wanted to take self defense,” she groaned as they crossed the quad, slumping under the weight of her backpack like he was subjecting her to something less than his best idea ever.

Yukhei laughed and adjusted the straps of his backpack. “Yuqi, you can beat every boy at arm wrestling in our entire year. I think you’re fine.”

“That doesn’t mean,” she said, “that I know the most efficient way to poke a man’s eyes out.”

“No one wants to get near your nails. Besides, I’ll fuck anyone up who actually manages to hurt you.”

She snorted indelicately, but straightened and walked faster toward the art building, ponytail swinging.

“Slow down, tiny. We still got time,” Yukhei said, grinning wide. He honestly loved the first day of school—no one was dying yet, no assignments were happening, and in this particular day’s case, the sky was bright and filled with clouds that had character. He especially liked the squad of possessed geese the first years were always keen on chasing away. He missed high school. He wouldn’t later, but for the first day? He let himself bask in the social glow.

“God, why don’t you use your long legs for once? I swear,” Yuqi grumbled, and Yukhei laughed, lengthening his stride anyway. 

By virtue of Yuqi’s dad working in the art department, they’d always known where the art building was and which classroom held whichever quirky, coffee-infused teacher. Mrs. Boulder preferred chai lattes and candles that made her room smell like a forest on steroids.

“Hi Mrs. Boulder!” Yukhei said as he slipped in through the door Yuqi deigned to hold open for him. The whole room smelled a little less like clay and pine than it normally did, airing itself out over a whole summer.

“Yukhei! Yuqi! Hello—wait.” Mrs. Boulder flipped through her roster, papers rustling, then dropped into her wheely chair. “Yukhei _no_.”

“Yukhei _yes_,” he rebutted, grinning so hard he almost couldn’t see Mrs. Boulder melt.

“Please don’t break anything,” she pled, and Yukhei dropped his bag near one of the stools to sit down, Yuqi having already claimed the table closest to the door. The teacher was referring to the collateral damage of his first and second years, but to be fair, the second time wasn’t exactly his fault.

“I will try to restrain my curiosity, Mrs. Boulder,” Yukhei assured her, though he’d already noticed a very pretty fired pot on top of one of the tall cabinets. It was an interesting yellow and was squat in a very charming way. He was sure he’d be gentle enough with everything, though, to avoid another incident.

“You can be _curious_, you just have to be careful.”

“Yes, ma—hold on Yuqi—yes, ma’am.”

Yukhei looked away from Mrs. Boulder to Yuqi’s phone, which she’d been using to prod between Yukhei’s ribs, and was then fully absorbed in the Chinese song she gave him through her earbuds. He listened, and the classroom filled slowly with students as he felt out the beat and tune.

“Do a cover of this with me,” she said, and he hummed in interest, committing the title and artist to memory.

“Lemme look int… o it. Oh. Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Yuqi.”

“What!”

“He goes here?”

Across the room and settling down at the farthest table was the older, spitting image of his third grade crush. His baby gay awakening. His first kiss. It had to be him.

“He _goes_ here?”Yukhei said with more urgency, and Yuqi splayed her hands in annoyance.

“_Who_?”

The boy looked up and Yukhei had never ducked his head to avoid eye contact so fast in his life. He could feel heat in his ears as he stared at Yuqi instead. “Remember that story I told you about my first kiss?”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not!”

Yuqi peeked over and Yukhei watched her eyes squint. He wasn’t about to stop her. She didn’t even know what he looked like and all the tables between them and the boy were nearly filled. She'd have to pick among tens of people.

“I see him.”

“You don’t. You’ve never seen him before. You can’t—”

“He’s your type.”

Yukhei closed his mouth at that and covered his ears as soon as the new wave of heat hit him. “Describe him,” he said miserably.

“Black hair, off his forehead. He has really nice cheekbones. Big eyes, though that might be the glasses—”

“Okay stop,” he whined. “Is he looking?”

“No,” she said, and there was laughter in her tone. “He’s got a book out. Nerd.”

“You just re-read The Silmarillion for the third time, Yuqi,” he countered, dropping his head to the table and between his forearms. She had a difficult relationship with Tolkien (“I just pretend all the dwarves are female”) and claimed she hated him more than she loved his work, but nonetheless—

She laughed and pulled her phone and earbuds out of Yukhei’s hands. “No need to get defensive. If I wasn't a nerd myself, I’d never be able to tolerate you.”

Yukhei refused to be insulted by that. He wasn't bookish, per se, but if anyone had been privy tohis excessive excitement over just about anything that caught his interest over the years, it was Yuqi. His current fixation was handiwork after one of his college friends welded a metal flower for him. Hence the pottery, which he knew he wouldn't regret.

Before Yuqi could prod him any more, the bell rang and Mrs. Boulder took over the class. She introduced them to all the different kinds of clay, and as she went over the rough syllabus, they got to get their hands on a hockey puck of earthenware clay.

Because Yukhei was polite, he never once looked over at the boy at the last table—he didn't let himself. He'd been working on self-control, and he wanted to give Mrs. Boulder all of his fleeting attention because she was their friend.

He could happily call himself successful.

It was Yuqi who did something, which did not surprise him at all and would surprise absolutely no one ever so long as they had talked to her for more than five seconds.

"Hey! Hey, wait!" she said, cheerful like what she was doing was not the work of a menace.

"Yuqi," Yukhei whined, reaching to capture her backpack, but she slid right out of it to snag the boy before his way out the door.

Her voice was lost among the chatter of students, and anxiety bubbled in Yukhei's stomach like he'd eaten something too fast. The boy—god he couldn't remember his name! It had been eight years! The boy was smiling politely, and Yukhei jerked out of his chair like someone had bodily shoved him off it.

But fate was against him and Mrs. Boulder materialized between him and his goal, and Yukhei stuttered in his step. "Yukhei," she said, eyes earnest underneath her tragic bangs, "I'm sorry—I hope you don't feel like I don't want you in this class. That's not what I meant at all."

"It's fine, Mrs. Boulder," Yukhei said weakly, and she wasn't convinced.

"I think you'll be amazing at pottery, Yukhei, and I've heard you're a delight to have in the classroom. I'm so excited."

"Mrs. Boulder, it's fine. Really. I'm super pumped, too. I'll be careful I promise." He was speaking quickly, but that was par the course most days, so she didn't even blink. Over her shoulder, Yuqi laughed, and Yukhei felt like he was dying a prolonged death. He reasserted himself to the conversation so he could get out of it faster than this. "I'm not insulted, Mrs. Boulder." He switched on his smile, and the tension in his teacher's shoulders eased. She reached up with a veiny and work-worn hand to ruffle his hair (which was fine—he didn't style it most days and today was no exception) despite being a good half-foot shorter than him. The women in his life were mere physical smidgens but damn if they didn't have character.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Yukhei. I hope the rest of your classes go great," she said, so warm some of his anxiety dissipated by default.

"Thank you. You too."

And when he looked up, Yuqi and the boy weren't even in the classroom anymore. It was just him with two backpacks and Mrs. Boulder retreating to her desk.

"Shit—"

"Language!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Boulder!"

He shoved himself out of the classroom.

Yuqi was waiting, grinning, the boy nowhere to be seen.

"Oh my god, you ate him," Yukhei said, relief and panic mixing to disastrous effect.

"I did not." Yuqi said, grabbing her backpack from Yukhei's limp grip. "I know his name, now."

"What is it," Yukhei blurted, almost stumbling after her as she began to walk to her next class. "I've forgotten it's been eight years Yuqi what is it I need to know."

"No you don't," she said primly. "Go ask him yourself." With a cheeky wave, she left him behind, catching up with another student she saw crossing the grass between buildings.

Yukhei forced himself to forget all incidents leading to the boy for the rest of the day. His mind was less than a steel trap, and its reduced faculties were incredibly handy whenever he wanted to shove something out of his mind. Less than handy when he wanted to focus on studying for geometry while his dog vied for attention.

Life was fleeting—he couldn't spend three hours studying geometry when he forgot to water the garden and needed food and was itching for a run and...

He wasn't a bad student. He had decent grades. Just living had to be more than academia when other things existed outside of the classroom. He was sure of it.

"Hey, did you ask him his name yet?" Yuqi said at the end of the day, releasing her hair from the tie and shaking it over her shoulders so she could braid it.

"No?" Yukhei said, trading his converse for running shoes. "I haven't seen him."

Yuqi was staring at him after that, but it took him a second to realize it. "What?"

"He's in your physio class?"

"What?" 

"Yukhei!"

"I didn't see him!"

"Oh my god!"

"I don't have fifteen sets of eyes!"

"You don't need fifteen you just need one!"

Yukhei groaned and yanked on his other shoe. "God damnit. He really shares physio with me?"

Yuqi finished her second braid and pinned them both back, movements exaggerated in her exasperation. "Yes! I asked to look at his schedule. Jesus, Xuxi. Are you gay or are you blind?"

"I'm bisexual," Yukhei said, put-out.

She looked at him like he was a particularly cute but disappointing two-year old. Sometimes, he felt she wasn't too far off, but that was okay. "Let's just run," she said like living pained her, and there was nothing Yukhei could do until tomorrow, so they did.

The days passed with a collection of bruises on Yukhei's right arm where Yuqi punched him hard enough to kill every time he reported that, no, he still hadn't talked to him. He knew his name, now (Mark Lee, and it lit up his memory like a stray firework, so he knew for sure now that this was Him. This was The Boy.), but that was just because he paid scrupulous attention during roll call—not because he'd actually approached him.

"I haven't had time!" Yukhei defended, which was absolutely not true.

"God, you're such a useless bisexual. Do I need to lock you in a room?"

His romcom dreams fired and he stifled them with every single one of his organs. "No," he said, offended. "I'll talk to him sometime!"

He didn't.

Of course, it was Yuqi who intervened with a determination Yukhei only saw from her when he finally improved enough at Mario Kart to challenge her.

"Mark!" she called in pottery class, and Yukhei flinched. "Come sit with us!"

He would curl into a ball if that would be less humiliating than meeting Mark eye-to-eye. But it wasn't, so he did look Mark in the eyes and also noted the tiny mole on his cheek, and forced himself to smile naturally. "Hey."

Yuqi punched him.

Nothing happened. 

Well, Mark sat with them, and they all talked as they worked, but nothing spectacular happened, and there were no hints given from either one of them that they knew each other even remotely. Yukhei had invested in pretending because he didn't want to make Mark uncomfortable, and who knew if Mark remembered Yukhei at all. They'd never seen each other again after Radha's party. There had been no excuse, and Yukhei didn't have any way to contact him.

The only slip-up was maybe when Mark said he'd been going to their high school the entire time.

"Really?" Yukhei said, eyes boring into the sculpture he was shaping. They hadn't quite gotten to the wheels yet, Mrs. Boulder wanting them to familiarize themselves with the clay first. Yukhei was making a turtle. Because turtles were cute.

"Yeah," Mark said. "I think you were in my history class our first year."

Yukhei could feel Yuqi glance at him like she'd thrown a rock instead of just A Look.

"Huh," Yukhei said, though it was more like a squeak. "Huh," he repeated, short-circuiting, and decided to shut up before he said something Peak Idiotic.

It wasn't until three weeks in when Yuqi had to pull a sick day ("If you don't bring me soup I'll never look over one of your essays ever again.") that anything "happened."

Mark joined him at his table in pottery like had become the norm, dropping his backpack next to his feet as he sat on the stool. "Where's Yuqi?"

"She's sick," Yukhei said, and in a burst of numbing inspiration, he said, "Do you still like Toad?"

Mark stared at him and Yukhei felt the heat in his ears before anything else. "Yeah," he said after a heavy, death-inducing pause. "It's been a while, though."

Yukhei's heart restarted, though he hadn't even realized it had failed him, and he smiled so hard he ached. "We should play sometime, then!"

Mark's laugh was short and sweet.

They ended up at Yuqi's house with hot and sour soup. She crushed them both in Mario Kart even though she had to stop periodically to cough into her elbow (it worked in her favor, somehow, knocking Yukhei into the turf on two occasions).

It was easy, after that, to manhandle Mark into their lives. Yukhei met his friend circle in one huge noraebang disaster (if it was anything less, it wouldn't be noraebang), and though they had never really addressed that first kiss, it felt unnecessary at this point. What was some clumsy first kiss to the evenings he got to spend with him now?

Bagels. Bagels were Mark and Yukhei's thing where everyone else went for frozen yoghurt. They'd started doing it on Fridays when Yuqi had track practice, and Mark was always trying something new ("I dunno I just don't have a favorite, I guess.") while Yukhei always chose the honey almond on egg.

"What do you think you'll do after high school?" Yukhei asked, biting into his toasted bagel, and waited as Mark chewed in thought.

"College first," he said after a swallow. "I wanna major in English, I think. I've always wanted to be a writer. What about you?"

"College first," Yukhei agreed, though he'd probably go to some state college while Mark went to a university. He wasn't into competitive academia. Or being in debt. "Maybe physical training? Or a PE teacher?" He'd been waffling for a long time, now, but he knew he wanted to do something athletic. Nothing like a professional sport because he wasn't into that either, really. He liked helping people.

"You'd be good at that," Mark said. "Either of those things."

Yukhei smiled at him, and Mark smiled back, and Yukhei bit into his bagel again before he could succumb to a set of giggles. He wasn't sure from where they were originating except that he liked being around Mark. They were just friends—that was it—but he didn't exactly need more. Sure, Yuqi said Yukhei looked at Mark like he emerged out of an exploding star, but he also looked at Yuqi like she hung the moon, so all was fair in love.

"I'm sorry I never noticed you in my classes before," Yukhei said, picking up a crumb from the table and placing it on the paper his bagel had come wrapped in.

Mark hesitated with his bagel partway to his mouth. "I was surprised you remembered me." He adjusted his glasses and took a bite.

"It would be hard to forget you," Yukhei said, and laughed. "You were my first kiss."

Mark's blush flooded up his neck like a splotchy tide. "I don't think that counted. Our lips barely touched."

Yukhei grinned as he stuffed the rest of his bagel into his mouth and shook his head.

"Listen," Mark said. "I was like, six."

"Eight," Yukhei corrected through a mouthful behind his hand.

Mark laughed, and succumbed to that for a good three seconds before resuming. "My parents hadn't even let me look at people kissing on TV yet."

Yukhei swallowed. "Oof. Bummer."

"That can't have been my first kiss." Mark was smiling.

"Oh, c'mon. I've counted it for years," Yukhei said, pouting big because he could, and he watched Mark draw a hand through his hair. The next words came from the section of his brain that ironically did anything but think. "You were the cutest boy I've ever kissed. You can at least give me this."

Mark buckled, hands coming up to push under his glasses and hide his face, and he whined. "Oh my god, Xuxi. I was _eight_."

There were excitable pop rocks snapping and fizzling everywhere in Yukhei's body, delighted at the reaction, at the blush, at the cute complaint. "I'm saying you're still cute now," he said, because the Brainless part of his brain had landed successfully for once. He counted this as successful. Yukhei laughed, brimming with delight.

"Oh my god." Mark wheezed. "I wasn't ready."

"You're _so_ cute, Mark."

"Stop, stop, stop. Stop that. I need to finish my bagel."

"You're cutest when you eat." Untrue—he was cutest when he was reading because sometimes he pulled faces and didn't realize it.

"_Xuxi._"

Yuqi said he was torturing Mark, but it couldn't be torture if he smiled while it happened, right? Yukhei was just going out of his way to compliment him (to see him blush, to see him curl into himself or cringe and flap his hands, to hear him complain), and only good things could come from belligerent kindness, right?

"You're flirting. God, you're like a bulldozer," Yuqi said as he walked her to her next class. She'd had to give his notes back for Chinese class.

"I'm not," Yukhei denied.

"Flirting? Or a bulldozer?"

Yukhei hesitated, thought about it, then murmured, "A bulldozer."

"Holy shit," Yuqi said, and laughed. "He admits he's flirting."

"He's cute," Yukhei complained.

"Yes, I know. You won't shut up about it.”

They sat on the bleachers as the sun blazed rays into the metal around them, Mark squinting at his textbook and Yukhei biting his nails. Down on the track, Yuqi was doing sprints. Well, she was generally doing sprints. Right now she was flirting with another team member. Yukhei couldn’t remember her name.

“Dendrites,” Mark said.

“Those things that look like branches,” Yukhei responded.

Mark laughed. “What do they do, Xuxi?”

Yukhei grinned and rubbed his hands on his jeans as his heart picked up another beat per second. “They receive sensations. Hey, Mark, are you gay?”

Mark choked, coughed, then started to laugh. His eyes were so fucking bright in the sun like this. “Are you?”

There was an accelerating fuzziness building in Yukhei’s chest, but he pushed through it. “I’m bisexual,” he said, and his leg went restless, quivering. 

Mark looked there, and then at Yukhei’s face, a smile quirked into the corner of his mouth. “I think I’m ace? But if you’re asking if I like guys, then my answer is yes.”

All of Yukhei’s air escaped him at once and he keeled in half to sag over his knees. “Oh thank god.” Mark laughed again, and Yukhei could never hear his laugh without smiling. “Is it okay if I have a massive crush on you, Mark?”

His laugh was wonderful. His smile was wonderful. He wanted to kiss him, but wouldn’t—absolutely not. Not unless Mark wanted it. “Sure. I’m fine with that.” His nose scrunched in a wider smile, and Yukhei wasn’t afraid to cry.

“Do you like me?” Yukhei said, yanking himself through the very last question, holding his breath again because he _wanted_ so badly but if Mark said no that would be fine. He would make it be fine.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

“Oh my god.” Yukhei gripped his hair, laughed, breathed, leaned back and looked at the sky because today was _perfect_.

“Jesus, Yukhei,” Mark laughed. “What would you have done if I said no?”

Yukhei refocused, and Mark was smiling. If Mark was okay with it, he swore he’d kiss that smile someday. “I would have dealt with it,” Yukhei said seriously, and Mark’s smile melted into something much softer. He looked back down at his textbook.

“Endocrine glands.”

“Uhh—” Yukhei recalibrated, but that didn’t stop him from smiling. “Pumps cool stuff into the blood.”

Mark laughed, which at this point was the best reward for anything Yukhei had ever done in his life so far.

**To: Mark**

wanna date

**From: Mark**

haha sure haha

wait

like now?

**To: Mark**

fjskfsfs

uhhhh

wait can you

**From: Mark**

g2 shower but sure lol

where to? haha

**To: Mark**

idk yet i didnt think youd say yes

**From: Mark**

laughing omg

Mark ate his noodles on the grass as Yukhei set up the frisbee golf pole holes, Yukhei’s own noodles set next to Mark’s knee.

“Isn’t this just hanging out?” Mark asked through a mouthful of chicken.

“Isn’t that what dating is?” Yukhei said. “Or should I be, like, getting out the parasols and handkerchiefs?” He gestured wide to emphasize the parasol and whacked the pole hole, sending it teetering over.

Mark giggled into his broth, took a sip, then choked on his own laugh.

They couldn’t get to the actual frisbee-throwing for a while because of their laughter alone.

“What’s it like being ace?” Yukhei asked, settling down with his back to the grass and face to the sky. He was sweating more than anticipated, but Mark was faster than he gave him credit, and at some point frisbee golf had just turned into running around with the frisbee and trying to get it into each other’s “goals.” Yukhei discovered that Mark felt small in his arms when he’d tackled him earlier, and Mark’s laughter sounded better the closer he was to the source.

Mark flopped down next to him. “I mean, I’m not even sure. I’ve never been in a proper relationship, so I’m not sure what I am.”

“Oh.”

“But, like, people don’t turn me on, really?” Mark turned toward Yukhei and Yukhei followed suit, smiling at just the opportunity to look him in the face. He’d taken off his glasses, and his eyes were big even without them. Mark flicked his gaze over Yukhei, which would have made him giddy under normal circumstances, but this had a context. “Like I can tell you’re handsome—”

“Thank you. I know.”

Mark bit down on a laugh, failed miserably for a few seconds, then resumed. “—but like, you don’t make me horny.”

Yukhei had never laughed so hard in his life.

It was six dates before Mark kissed Yukhei outside the swing dancing house. It wasn’t much better than Yukhei’s first kiss in practical terms because Mark was laughing so hard the kiss only lasted a second tops, and his lips were hard from the smile, and his glasses were still in the way. But god if it wasn’t the best kiss ever.

“I love you,” Yukhei said soon after. “I don’t know if it’s like, romantic. I like you a lot romantically. But god, I just love you.” He fumbled. “For being you. You make me happy.”

Mark was smiling so hard Yukhei could hardly see his eyes glimmer from the streetlights. The second kiss was better (in practical terms only), and lasted longer.

(“Do you like kissing?” Yukhei would ask later, and Mark would answer, “Sure, but only because it’s you.”)

**Author's Note:**

> Woop woop wrote this in two days because I told [AJ](https://twitter.com/alleywhomst) I would! They asked for LuMark, and I hope I delivered ;; This is technically _so_ early. Their birthday is next weekend, but I'll be at my sister's, so I used this weekend to get it done and put it out. I could wait... but... it's hard to wait.
> 
> This just in: I love Yukhei SO much. My multichap is ripping him from my bare hands and it's horrible.
> 
> I hope AJ enjoys ;; I did!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/speckledsolana)  
[curiouscat](https://t.co/zW26zmaxzw?amp=1)  
[tellonym](https://tellonym.me/solananne)


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